


Several Sunlit Days

by lesbabeths (nixy_stix)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Little Mermaid Elements, mermaid au, why is pipeyna not more popular
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7876819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixy_stix/pseuds/lesbabeths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how dangerous and immature and stupid, it’s always worth it to surface and visit the human world, because humans always have something new and exciting to show off, something Piper has never seen before. She lives for that.</p>
<p>Tonight is no exception—in fact, Piper makes her most brilliant discovery yet, because tonight, Piper sees a girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Several Sunlit Days

It’s quiet in her father’s kingdom.

Piper doesn’t like it one bit, because she’s certain that the citizens in the kingdom are going about their daily lives as usual, and are only quiet around  _ her _ because they’re busy gawking and gaping and whispering behind her back. Not that she  _ blames _ them, really, because it’s her own damn fault and she knows it, but no matter whose fault it is, it’s still  _ uncomfortable _ .

Her father hadn’t punished her (this time), and she only just now realizes how clever that had been of him---if he’d locked her up inside the palace, then she wouldn’t be stuck dealing with the side glances and steely disapproval of the people.

Worst of all, she feels guilty. She hates being paraded around as the king’s little princess with the pretty voice more than she has words to say, but still, the people had been expecting her, and she’d let them down. They came to hear her sing, packed out the concert hall in the kingdom and spilled out the side doors into the courtyard hoping to catch a few notes, and she hadn’t been there. She really  _ had _ forgotten that the concert was today, but that seems a pathetic excuse when she sees the looks on people’s faces and feels the heat of the scowls that her sisters give her. And she feels awful, simple as that.

Regardless, she still finds herself breaking yet  _ another _ one of the kingdom’s most revered traditions later that very same night: for the  _ love of god _ ,  _ do not _ stick your head above the water when there is a  _ ship passing overhead _ .

She knows it’s a bad idea, a  _ dangerous _ idea, an idea whose consequences could potentially threaten the livelihood of all merpeople everywhere, but she does it anyway. She just can’t help it. Maybe it’s because she’s a glutton for self-inflicted punishment, or maybe she’s just too chronically impulsive to make good decisions, but she finds herself captivated,  _ magnetized _ , by humans.

Which, honestly? Really  _ sucks _ . It’s almost gotten her killed half a dozen times before, it’s gotten her in trouble more times than she can even count, and it’s almost solely responsible for destroying her relationship with her father and her sisters.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Drew never spoke to her again after she’d been forced her to cover for Piper’s solo during the concert this morning with no warning whatsoever. And even as understanding as Silena is, Piper’s chronic screw ups take a toll on her in a way that really makes Piper hate herself. And she’s  _ still _ unable to just knock it off already, which she knows makes the entire kingdom hopelessly exasperated and slowly edging towards downright resentment.

The thing is, though: it’s always somehow worth it. Maybe it’s stupid and immature, but the closer she gets to humans, the closer she  _ wants _ to get to humans. They’re amazing, really. They make strange contraptions and use them to explore the world because they aren’t content just living on the land. Merpeople are content living in the sea, can’t fathom why anyone would want to leave it. But humans.  _ Humans _ . Humans understand. So they make things that help them get onto the sea, and into the air, and probably up to the stars, one day---Piper wouldn’t be surprised.

It’s amazing; the whole dysfunctional brilliance of it is amazing, and she’s ceaselessly jealous of the whole lot of them. So no matter how dangerous and immature and stupid, it’s always worth it, because humans always have something new and exciting to show off, something Piper has never seen before. She  _ lives _ for that.

Tonight is no exception---in fact, Piper makes her most brilliant discovery yet, because tonight, Piper sees a  _ girl _ .

It’s the first time she’s ever seen a human girl. She’s never seen anything but men; for some reason, men seem to be the only humans allowed to sail on boats. And sometimes the men are nice to look at, when they’re handsome young sailors, but Piper decides firmly that none of them are as breathtaking as a  _ girl _ .

The girl is young, she looks to be about Piper’s age, and about Piper’s size, too (except, of course, for the tail). She’s sitting with one of her legs draped over the railing, swinging it idly back and forth, seemingly unaware of the miracle of  _ legs _ attached to her body. She’s wearing tight pants and lace up boots that show her legs quite nicely, though, so perhaps she  _ does _ know how wonderful her legs are. Her hair is long and dark, blowing loosely in the wind, which looks peculiar because Piper has never seen long hair so… so  _ dry _ before. It looks soft and light, and she’s gripped with a sudden urge to touch it. Piper can’t make out the expression on the girl’s face, so she swims even closer.

She looks peaceful at first, but quickly sours when a man walks up behind her.

“You mustn’t sit that way, Princess,” he instructs her, and Piper can only just make out the girl rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going to fall,” she says, and Piper catches her breath all over again. Her voice is higher and warmer than any human’s she’s ever heard before, even if the girl does sound rather annoyed.

The man scoffs. “Yes, you will. Furthermore, you simply can’t spread your legs like that---in front of the whole crew! And good heavens, where did you even get those  _ trousers _ in the first place?”

The girl looks so bored that Piper can feel the flatness of her expression even from the ocean. “I stole them,” she says. “From the crew.”

The man pinches his nose. “Reyna,” he says through gritted teeth, sounding as though it causes him quite a lot of effort to remain calm. Piper is very familiar with the tone from her father. “You are--- _ aware _ \---that the purpose of this voyage is to find a husband.”

“ _ Reyna _ ,” Piper whispers to herself. It feels nice on her tongue.

“Oh, dear,” Reyna says, completely devoid of emotion. “It must have slipped my notice. How silly of me.”

She swings her leg back over the railing and plants her feet on the deck, drawing herself up to full height. Piper imagines that Reyna would be taller than her if she had legs, although Reyna is a fair bit shorter than the man.

“How peculiar, that I’ve forgotten to look for a husband, considering I have done nothing  _ but _ look for a husband, for my entire life.” She’s drawling, now, heavy with sarcasm. It makes Piper’s skin prickle with righteous anger and sympathy. “What a pity it should be, if I failed to marry yet  _ another _ suitor!” she spits out shrilly, stomping away from the man.

He sighs in frustration and hurries after her. “Now, come now, Princess,” he says quickly, still with barely suppressed exasperation. “You’re a smart girl. Surely you understand---”

“Understand!” Reyna shrieks, and barks out a humorless laugh. “I  _ understand _ perfectly fine, heaven only knows I’ve had it forced down my throat long enough, but I  _ daresay _ you’ll find it  _ quite _ out of my emotional range to give a  _ single damn _ that my kingdom will not grow more massive and disgustingly wealthy than it already is should I choose to never marry!"

She turns firmly on her heel and strides determinedly away, much to the man’s chagrin, who scurries after her, raising contradictions and trying to pacify her, which she steadily ignores.

Piper’s chest fills with an inexplicable emotion that she’s never experienced before---a mix between hopefulness, compassion, awe, and wonder, and a sudden impulse to draw much closer. All of it mixed together makes it quite complicated to breathe. She wonders if this is how humans feel under water.

Positively entranced, she follows Reyna across the deck of the ship, and climbs up to peer through a gap in the rail, where she can’t see much more than Reyna’s boots. Fortunately, Reyna crouches down low to greet something four-legged and covered in fur--- _ two _ four-legged fur-covered things, as a matter of fact. They’re dogs, she thinks. They’re awfully cute, and Piper is strangely jealous---of Reyna, for having access to such wonderful creatures, and of the creatures, for approaching Reyna so readily and to be greeted with such excitement.

She wonders what Reyna would do if she caught a glimpse of Piper. Of course, she’s heard all sorts of horror stories about what happens to merpeople who are found by humans, but she can’t imagine that Reyna is the killing, skinning, fish-eating sort of human. Humans like that can’t possible laugh as warmly as Reyna does.

One of Reyna’s dogs barks at Piper and breaks away to greet her, licking the salt water off her cheek.

“What is it, Aurum?” Reyna asks, following the creature and crouching down beside him. Piper holds her breath and ducks out of sight, flattening herself against the side of the ship. “What is it, boy?” she coos. “You see a way we can escape this godforsaken ship without drowning ourselves?”

Just as she finishes speaking, there’s a loud peal of thunder and an arc of lightning that cracks across the sky. Both Reyna and her dogs snap their heads up to look, suddenly on high alert. The men on the ship start shouting and running, and Piper turns her head to see dark and foreboding storm clouds just ahead.

She’s familiar with storms, of course, well enough to tell that this is going to be a bad one, and the people on the ship seem to reach the same conclusion. And they seem to be doing a well enough job of handling it, until a huge fission of lightning strikes the main mast, sending it crashing to the deck while the crew shouts and scatters. The wooden ship splinters, and to her horror, Piper realizes the sail has caught fire.

As the storm picks up and the ship begins burning, Piper has no choice but to draw back from the ship, losing sight of Reyna and the dogs completely. Her heart lifts when she sees the sailors boarding a smaller lifeboat, but quickly turns to lead again when she realizes that Reyna isn’t in it. Panicking, she does a lap around the boat as quickly as she can, without any luck. In the lifeboat, she sees Reyna’s two dogs, barking earnestly, and she hears the sailors shouting desperately, although she can’t make it out over the wind. She follows their line of sight and pointing fingers and finally, blessedly, spots Reyna, poised in front of the ship rail.

Behind her, the ship is almost completely engulfed in flames, and Piper’s chest squeezes up tight with fear. She sees Reyna dive neatly off the burning ship and into the churning water, and breathes a heavy sigh of relief.

  
That is, until she remembers that humans need  _ air _ , and the lifeboat is impossibly far away to reach by this point, especially in a storm like this. The sailors apparently realize this as well, but it’s already too late. Piper curses them vehemently, the whole lot of them and their incompetence to save the most  _ obviously _ important person on the entire ship, and decides that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

Of course, interacting with humans is strictly forbidden, but Piper’s already shattered that rule tonight, and anyway, she’s positive that her father could never think up a punishment worse than letting the most magnificent human being in the entire world drown.

She finds Reyna with hardly any trouble at all, which is rather impressive (if she does say so herself), considering the ship debris is sinking fast, sucking everything in like a vacuum. Piper has always been a fast swimmer, and as she catches Reyna fast around the torso and kicks powerfully up to the surface, she finds herself truly thankful for her tail for the first time in her life.

She finds land quickly and easily, knowing her way around these waters very well. The ocean calms down as they pull away from the storm. It’s almost daybreak, and Piper sees a hint of dawn edging over the horizon.

She’s just about to congratulate herself when she realizes Reyna might be dead anyway. She doesn’t know anything about how humans breathe, and she certainly doesn’t know how to  _ make _ a human breathe.

She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to recover all the information she’s studied about humans over the years. For a scary second, her mind roars blankly, but then she remembers---check for a pulse, just under the jaw, on the neck. She finds it by some miracle, and breathes a heavy sigh of relief when she feels it; weak, but there. For a moment, she finds herself transfixed, suspended---Reyna’s skin is soft, and cold, but steadily growing warmer under Piper’s fingertips. Human beings are miracles, she decides. Or, perhaps,  _ this _ human being is a miracle.

Reyna coughs weakly, which startles Piper. Her chest heaves and then she makes a godawful retching noise that sends Piper into a panic all over again. By some unknown instinct, Piper flips Reyna over onto her side, and she vomits up a repugnant stream of water (which Piper still finds strangely fascinating). She coughs a few more times and then her body seems to settle---breathing steadily, pulse a bit stronger. Piper stares in awe at the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, at how the soaked white linen of her shirt clings to her torso, at the droplets of water on her skin that slowly dry in the early morning sunshine. She really  _ is _ beautiful.

She doesn’t want to leave yet, and she’s still not sure if it’s safe to---for all Piper knows, this is what humans look like just before they die. She doesn’t think so, but she can’t be too sure. So, Piper does what Piper has always done best: she starts to sing.

She sings about healing and breathing and the steady heartbeat of a human, about sunlight  and sand under your toes and windblown hair, about calm waters and four-legged fur-covered creatures, about beautiful girls and stubborn princesses. She keeps singing until she hears a chorus of familiar barks and spots a group of people making their way down the shore. Quickly, Piper pushes away from Reyna and across the sand, back into the water.

Reyna’s dogs find her fast, tearing across the beach. Piper thinks it’s fitting that a human like Reyna should have a set of such good dogs. They crawl on top of her and lick her all over, and, beautiful, wonderous thing that she is, Reyna sits up and laughs weakly, curling her arms around them.

Satisfied with herself and wanting to be safely out of sight before the incompetent sailors arrive, Piper, reluctantly, turns and swims away. It might be wishful thinking on her part, but she swears, she  _ swears _ she can just make out Reyna’s voice before she submerges:

“Did you hear that singing, boys? Where could she have gone?”

**Author's Note:**

> you can visit me at [lesbabeths](http://lesbabeths.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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